


Knowing Me, Knowing You

by grimeysociety



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy Lewis Is a Good Bro, Disco Does Not Suck, F/M, Fluff, Karaoke, POV Darcy Lewis, Scott Lang is a Good Bro, WinterShock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 14:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19871269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimeysociety/pseuds/grimeysociety
Summary: Darcy and Scott will always end up singing ABBA's "Knowing Me, Knowing You" every Thursday. They tend to have an audience as well, which includes Darcy's crush.





	Knowing Me, Knowing You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ellerigby13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellerigby13/gifts).



> Hello! I got this idea two months ago, a head canon of sorts that I wrote a bit about on my Tumblr: 
> 
> _Literally every time I hear Knowing Me, Knowing You by ABBA I picture Darcy and Scott Lang singing along, probably with a disgruntled audience like “They do this every Thursday…”_
> 
> _I’m gonna have to write this, aren’t I_
> 
> _Goddamn it_
> 
> Since it's Ellerigby13's birthday on the 21st I wanted an excuse to write this... so here it is a couple days early. Please check out her stories, too, if you haven't already. She's a sweet, talented and adorable lady. Happy Birthday!!!!
> 
> Here's some sickly sweet fluff. Friendship and Tower fun times. YAY. :D

Darcy and Scott became friends the second Scott replied to Darcy’s statement “I’m hungry” with “Hi, Hungry, I’m Scott.”

Darcy maintains that she doesn’t find that old joke funny no matter how many times he makes it, even though she’s a liar and she definitely does find it funny. She’s sure Scott knows this.

Scott is a ray of sunshine even when he’s wiped out from expanding and shrinking. He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, and he’s also a massive dork. Darcy can say that because she’s one, too. There’s a solidarity there. She tells him a couple weeks after they meet that he radiates chaotic good energy, because he’s as clumsy as a newborn giraffe. He doesn’t disagree. It also helps that neither he nor Darcy care about what they look like when they’re knocking things over. At least, when it’s just the two of them either in the kitchen or the common room.

The singing thing with Scott only started after one hangover on a Sunday morning when Darcy was alone and making herself a pound of Kraft mac n’ cheese. She was blasting ABBA when the Advil kicked in and when she got to the chorus of _Mama Mia_ , she heard a voice behind her start to sing along. She turned around, smiling at Scott, and they kept on going.

It started happening more often, and when Darcy played ABBA she always knew Scott would show up sooner or later. It wasn’t until the others started making comments on it that they properly acknowledged their singing together.

If it happens during lunchtime they were more likely to gather an audience.

“They do this _every_ Thursday,” Tony murmurs to Steve, the pair of them eating cheeseburgers while Bucky lurks in the background, sipping coffee.

His blue eyes settle on Darcy as she moves around with a pen she’s using as a microphone. They’re singing along to a song with a lot of cuss words in it and it’s making Bucky smirk.

“Beyoncé,” Steve says to Bucky, as if it explains everything.

_“When he fuck me good I take his ass to Red Lobster! If he hit it right, I’ll give him a flight on my chopper –!”_

“Good Lord,” Tony says with a chuckle.

They are screaming together by the time _Knowing Me, Knowing You_ comes on. When it ends, Darcy glances at Tony, shrugging.

“You know disco sucks, right?” he says.

“We can’t all stick with dad rock 24/7,” she retorts, and Tony rolls his eyes. “And don’t get me started on how all AC/DC’s songs all sound the same.”

“That is not true.”

“And neither does disco suck!” Darcy yells. “Are you done?”

She gaze darts between the three men, until she blushes at the sight of Bucky, turning away to play another song on the plasma screen TV.

“I wanted to watch the play-offs,” Tony says, and Darcy throws him another glare over her shoulder.

“Find another TV. This one’s taken.”

“Good Lord,” Tony says again, putting his food aside. “Acting like this isn’t my building I built with my bare hands…”

Steve shoots him a look.

“Metaphorical bare hands,” Tony adds. “Besides, you’d prefer she take that somewhere else.”

Steve glances at Bucky, smirking. “No. And I don’t think _he_ minds, either.”

“Punk,” Bucky mutters, sipping his coffee.

Bucky and Darcy had been doing their quiet little dance around each other for months. Darcy gets all flustered whenever she spots Bucky looking at her, but Bucky’s taking way too long to ask her out.

Tony buys a karaoke machine and installs it without saying a word about it to Darcy. She finds it the following Friday, loaded with plenty of songs across different genres and decades. Plenty of disco despite Tony saying it sucks, too.

“Thanks,” she says to him, and he pretends to not understand, and she smiles at him.

She and Scott spend a good hour just the two of them that night singing along and giggling. They start to draw a crowd, and the liquor starts to flow and other people begin to use the machine.

Jane can carry a tune, which is something Darcy did not know. Sam is great, and does not appreciate that Darcy calls his taste in music dad rock as well. Steve refuses to sing because he’s tone deaf despite all his other attributes. Tony can croon, and so does Clint. Darcy remembers him telling her he was in a band once.

“How long’s it been since you sang?” Darcy asks while sipping her beer, Clint twirling on the spot and pointing at her, sustaining the same note as she begins to laugh.

“Not long enough, apparently,” Natasha replies, and Clint sticks his tongue out at her. “You know, it’s how he met Laura.”

“Seriously?” Darcy says, and Natasha winks at her. “What about you?”

Darcy doesn’t think there’s much Natasha can’t do, and she’s not wrong. Natasha’s husky speaking voice translates to something equally seductive as she sings along to a Cure song.

Darcy’s the last one to go to bed, giving Scott a high-five when he tells her he’s leaving. He picks up the rest of the trash and walks out, leaving Darcy to shut down the machine and switch off the TV.

She hears someone clear their throat and she spins around, seeing Bucky standing there. She feels her cheeks blush and she ducks her eyes for a second.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies. “You… done for the night?”

“Yeah,” she says.

She hasn’t seen him all day. The parties aren’t usually his scene. She thinks about acting smooth and then instantly remembers him being in the background when she screamed “McFlurryyyyyyy” earlier that day.

Also, there was the time she went to Clint’s farm and played with the chickens the whole time, training one of them to jump onto her back but at the time Bucky faked not seeing any of that from the treehouse he was perched in.

She even remembers the time she kept doing her “De Niro” face while talking to Steve in the kitchen about buying more pickles, immediately freezing when Bucky walked in. That was two days ago.

“What’s up?” she says, and he smirks.

“Nothin’ much. You guys singin’ all night?”

“Yeah, was it that bad?” Darcy says, pressing a couple switches hastily, mashing random keys as her panic begins to set in.

“I… probably have heard worse,” he replies, looking at the screen that’s paused on yet another ABBA song. “There were a lot of stray cats in my neighborhood growin’ up.”

Darcy snorts, then hits his arm, pretending he’s offended her. “You’re saying it sounded like cats screwing?”

“You said that, not me,” he says. “And you put on a good show, from what I remember.”

His eyes flash and Darcy stills, blinking at him. _Oh._

“You wanna sing?” she manages to ask, when the silence between them becomes taut.

She picks up one of the microphones and hands it to him and he frowns a little.

“Any any songs on there I’d know?”

Darcy raises one eyebrow.

“I could put on _Yankee Doodle Dandy_. Unless the Civil War is too modern for –”

Bucky cuts her off. “What about _Cheek to Cheek_ , sweetheart?”

Darcy feels herself blush yet again at his rumbly voice calling her cute little things like sweetheart. He stares her down and she relents, using the remote to put up the song.

“Can you dance like Fred Astaire, too?” she quips as the song score begins.

Bucky pauses, blinking a couple times.

“Come here, I’ll show you.”

Darcy obeys, moving close enough for him to pull her by the waist. She feels her heart race because she’s never been this close to him before. He leaves the microphone on the machine, waltzing her around in a small circle.

Darcy’s sure she’s got a dumbstruck look on her face the whole time, letting this happen to her more than dancing along with him. He gives a smile, his eyes consuming her attention.

“Where’s _this_ guy been the whole time?” Darcy murmurs, and his eyes fall to her mouth.

“You’re never by yourself,” he replies, and Darcy smirks.

“You have to be quicker than Scott. He’s usually the one who finds me alone first.”

Bucky’s face falls for a brief second.

“I… didn’t know you two were –”

Darcy pulls her hand away from his, touching her chest.

“Oh. We’re _not_. I’m teasing.”

Bucky looks relieved. “Okay. Right.”

They begin moving again and Darcy takes Bucky’s hand back in hers, squeezing. His eyes don’t meet hers and it’s as if the game has changed, something’s shifted.

“Hey, did I leave -?”

Darcy turns toward the voice and sees Scott rushing back in.

“-my phone…”

His sentence trails off as he takes in Darcy and Bucky waltzing together. They stop, Scott staring at them as the song changes over to Tears For Fears, the tone and pace of the new song jarring in an instance. Bucky’s hands leave Darcy and he steps back.

Darcy glances around, seeing a phone sitting on one of the couches and points it out. Bucky clears his throat and Darcy feels her heart sink. He’s shrunk in on himself and she wants to shake Scott for interrupting them.

“I’m gonna – I’ll see ya,” Bucky mutters, and he leaves quicker than Darcy can form the words to make him stay.

Scott’s eyebrows stay up as Darcy crosses her arms and glares at him.

“You scared him off.”

“I’m sorry,” Scott says, sighing. “I know you like him.”

“He likes me, too, I guess. I dunno,” she mumbles.

They pack up the equipment together and Scott gives her shoulder a squeeze before they go their separate ways.

-

Darcy waits around the kitchen for Bucky. Tony is the first one to address it.

“You waiting for someone, Lewis?”

Sometimes Darcy wishes she could smack the smug look off his face, but then she remembers he fights monsters of the week often enough to get beaten up and it’s not exactly like his list of enemies is short.

“If I tell you, will you stop talking, Tony?” she replies, lifting her coffee mug and taking a sip. She anticipated witnesses, hence why she’s not using her mug.

“That’s mine,” Tony says, and Darcy smirks.

“Small price to pay. Maybe you can buy me a new mug since I broke mine –”

“That’s a lie. You’re just too lazy to wash yours so you hoard them downstairs until Bruce can’t stand the clutter.”

“I thought he was a slob, but it turns out I’m worse than him,” Darcy says with her smile widening. “And you’re right. I wanted to steal your blue mug to see the pissy look in your eyes.”

“I’m not that pissy,” he mutters. He narrows those eyes and he smirks. “It’s Barnes, right?”

“Oh, _wow_. How many IQ points do you have on me, huh? Is it eighty, or –?”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t pull a muscle with all that sarcasm, Lewis.”

“I’m sorry, it’s either that or you list your fucking resumé when you’re trying to make a point. As if I’d give a shit if you graduated with a Master’s Degree in –”

“ _Okay_. Jesus Christ,” Tony hisses, and Darcy presses her lips together. “How was that sentence supposed to end, anyway? I don’t have a Master’s Degree.”

“It was supposed to be a Master’s Degree in _I Hate You, Fuck Off_ ,” Darcy snaps, turning her heel.

She’ll take a chance and go down to the gym later and see if Bucky’s hanging around there. Predictably, Tony follows her out the kitchen without a hesitation and she stabs the elevator button with her thumb, glaring up at him with his stolen mug in her other hand.

“I’m thankful for the karaoke machine, Tony. I am, but I’m trying to deal with something that happened last night – or, more accurately, what _didn’t_ happen last night.”

Tony’s brows furrow.

“I… have no idea what you mean, Lewis.”

Darcy rolls her eyes. “Really?”

“Really,” Tony says, and the elevator doors open.

“Really?” Darcy says, tilting her head.

“Are you deaf? Really,” he says, chuckling. “I didn’t get you the damn machine.”

Darcy steps inside the elevator, mouth open.

“Then _why_ did you let me thank you for getting it?”

“I like women thanking me for things,” Tony says, shrugging. He moves a hand to block the doors to stop her from leaving so soon. “Maybe consider who else could have bought you the machine.”

“Scott?”

“No, Ludmilla.”

Darcy narrows her eyes. Tony waits, and she does, too, blinking until he blurts out his next sentence.

“It’s a _Rocky_ –”

“-reference, yeah, I got that,” she snaps. “Jesus Christ.”

He lets her go and she sighs.

-

She finds Bucky easily. He’s sitting on a bench alone with a dumb bell in his hand and Darcy manages to make herself known quickly without trying because three of the gym walls are floor to ceiling mirrors.

“Hey,” Darcy says, walking over with Tony’s coffee mug still in her hand.

Bucky glances up at her and drops the weight with a thud, wiping his hand on his sweatpants. There are distinct sweat patches on his shirt, on the front, back and under his arms. He cards his fingers through his hair and Darcy stands beside him, dropping her hip as she drinks what’s left of her coffee.

“Don’t see you here often,” he murmurs.

Darcy gives a little smile. “Thought I’d use my initiative. Get you alone.”

He laughs, a short breath as he looks her in the eye. “Good.”

They watch one another for a few seconds and Darcy decides to take the plunge.

“Did you buy that karaoke machine for me?”

He blinks. “Yeah.”

His cheeks go a little pink and Darcy can almost see the cogs turning in his head. He’s probably working out how long it will take to disappear again if he needs to.

“Thank you, baby.”

His lips part in shock. Darcy knows referring to him by anything at all would come across as forward, but baby crosses a distinct line. She never has called anyone that in his presence. That word is reserved for special people. Or, one special _person_.

“That’s…” he ducks his head. “That’s alright. I thought you’d like it.”

Fuck the consequences. She’s already got this far. Darcy lowers herself to be on her knees beside him, putting her mug on the floor. She moves toward him a second later, hand going to grab him by the hairs to tilt his head toward her and she kisses him, a firm press to his lips.

She pulls back, their noses brushing. Bucky has gone tight as a bow string and Darcy feels his muscles jump under her touch as he hand glides down his face, neck and shoulder to his arm.

She knows it’s aggressive. It was a gamble, touching him like that without warning. She knows she’s not afraid of him.

Why otherwise would she have acted like such an ass all those other times when she knew he was watching her in the distance?

“I like you,” she murmurs.

“I like you, too,” he says instantly.

She smiles, and he kisses her then, deeper, enough to take her breath away.

-

One Friday several weeks later, Bucky finally sings with her. It’s not something from his time, and it’s not exactly romantic.

It’s _All Star_ by Smash Mouth, and for weeks afterwards he yells “Some… _BODY_ once told me!” out of the blue, Darcy jumping every time before she smacks his arm in retaliation.

She can’t help giggling with him, pulling him into a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> (It's a Rocky IV reference, specifically.)
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com)


End file.
